Seal of the Maelstrom
by MerhppDerhpp
Summary: She was one, then she was two. He was whole, then he was not. They were lost, until they were found. Within a world both familiar and new, she would set them on a path of unknown destruction for the sake of no one but herself. [AU. Dark/Insert/Antagonist OC. Previously known as, 'Seal of the Uzumaki'. INDEFINITE HIATUS.]


**A/N: **Rewritten chapter uploaded 1/09/2016. This has dark themes, significant character personality modifications, etc. More explained in the A/N at the end.

* * *

oOo

* * *

_**"You have a peculiar thought process. What goes on in your mind?"**_

* * *

A dance for the living and the dead, a song for the damned and the path of the ruined. Crimson, garnet, ruby, cherry, red. _Always red_. Too fatigued for hatred ̶_ a lie, it sung_ ̶ too fatigued to fight ̶ _another, it crooned_ ̶ too lost to make sense of it all.

Names and faces, destinations and numbers. Words and different orders, sharp points and holes previously non-existent. Beads of red, rivers of red, _pools of red_. Screams and sobs, desperate cries and enraged howls.

Poems, fairy tales, folk tales. She enjoyed those. Stories, the telling of a tale of another. Escapism. Not all the time. No ̶ _nononono, how, __**why?**_ ̶ at times, annoyed. Bemused and angry, constructed logic defied. Names and faces multiple, the fault of the one who created them. Immature and no twist on the cliché. _Annoying_.

Friends, a word so complicated and irritating. Friends, they announced to her ̶ _lies, __**the curs**_ ̶ forever. Walls crushed, lines passed and the core embraced.

_Until it was crushed_. Despaired moans, silent trails of tears. Crimson, garnet, ruby, cherry, red. _Always red_. _**Always**_.

Then black and its vast sea of soothing cold. One day, she would _drown_ in it.

* * *

_**"Whatever goes on in the minds of the ones whom fit society's standards of normality?"**_

* * *

oOo

* * *

_"There must be something that you're afraid of, no matter how irrational. Would you tell me?"_

* * *

The palace of the mind did not exist, for there was only a sea of darkness in its place and _he was drowning_. Left immobile, the nothingness invaded his existence as a broken dam desperate for its return of the equilibrium. Struggles were futile and screams were silenced.

"**T**_h_**e**_ l_**i**_t_**t**_l_**e** _s_**n**_a_**k**_e_ _e_**x**_p_**e**_r_**i**_e_**n**_c_**e**_s_** t**_h_**e**_ e_**m**_b_**o**_d_**i**_m_**e**_n_**t** _o_**f**_ f_**e**_a_**r**,_ I_ **s**_e_**e**." a dissonant voice echoed over the edges of his unseen pool of suffocation, said pool then evaporating and blessing him with his breath once more. His body refused to do much more than breathe, however, and so panic seized him as a shape began to crackle and form from the darkness.

He watched, unable to blink as the form of a broken woman ̶ _who was the woman and where was the child?_ ̶ materialised before him in a state of incomplete completion. Porcelain skin cracked and broken like glass, pieces missing as the edges broke off ember-like particles to drift in the vastness. Always in constant motion, forming and reforming but never able to fill its holes. The face and the chest were nothing but gaping holes with wispy spheres of pale blue and green, a crude representation of the windows to the soul. Long hair of black and white defied gravity and floated above in the image of a divine being of ruin.

"_S_**u**_c_**h**_ a_**m**_b_**i**_t_**i**_o_**n**_s _**f**_o_**r**_ o_**n**_e _**s**_t_**i**_l_**l**_ p_**l**_a_**g**_u_**e**_d _**b**_y _**t**_h_**e**_ m_**o**_r_**t**_a_**l**_i_**t**_y _**o**_f _**t**_h_**e**_ l_**i**_v_**i**_n_**g**." the voice ̶ _her voice ̶_ intoned ̶ _crooned?_ ̶ enunciations strange and broken as it flitted between a woman and a child. "**Y**_o_**u**_ o_**v**_e_**r**_r_**e**_a_**c**_h_, **l**_i_**t**_t_**l**_e _**s**_n_**a**_k_**e**, _s_**o**_ i_**n**_ c_**o**_n_**s**_e_**q**_u_**e**_n_**c**_e _**y**_o_**u**_ m_**u**_s_**t**_ f_**a**_l_**l**. _T_**h**_e _**s**_o_**u**_l _**y**_o_**u**_ s_**e**_e_**k**_ t_**o**_ c_**l**_a_**i**_m _**i**_s _**m**_i_**n**_e _**a**_n_**d**_ y_**o**_u _**m**_a_**y**_ n_**o**_t _**h**_a_**v**_e_** i**_t_."

Her head tilted to the right and her neck snapped like grinding glass. Sickening, was the sound, sickening ̶_ terrified was what he was, __**terrified**_. The wispy spheres of mismatched colours scrutinised him, examining him ̶ _through him, inside of him, __**everywhere and anywhere**__ until all his secrets lay bare_ ̶ with a familiar and yet unfamiliar gaze. He had seen something of her gaze in his own, had he not?

"_T_**i**_m_**e**_ f_**l**_o_**w**_s _**j**_u_**s**_t _**a**_s _**t**_i_**m**_e _**c**_e_**a**_s_**e**_s _**i**_n _**t**_h_**i**_s_** r**_e_**a**_l_**m**… _Y_**o**_u_** a**_r_**e**_ d_**i**_f_**f**_e_**r**_e_**n**_t_. **Y**_o_**u**_r _**f**_e_**a**_t_**u**_r_**e**_s _**s**_o_**f**_t_**e**_r_, **y**_o_**u**_n_**g**_e_**r**. _Y_**o**_u_**t**_h_**f**_u_**l**. _Y_**o**_u_**r**_ p_**e**_r_**s**_o_**n**_a_**l**_i_**t**_y_** a**_l_**t**_e_**r**_e_**d**." she mused aloud and a stray thought of how ̶ _she was going to devour him, destroy him, __**ruin him**_ ̶ he may have been nothing but a specimen in her inhuman eyes flitted by. "**N**_o _**s**_p_**a**_w_**n**_ o_**f**_ b_**l**_u_**e**_ h_**a**_i_**r**, _t_**e**_a_**m**_m_**a**_t_**e**_s _**u**_n_**m**_a_**r**_r_**e**_d _**b**_y _**t**_h_**e**_ r_**a**_v_**a**_g_**e**_s _**o**_f _**t**_i_**m**_e _**b**_u_**t**_ t_**h**_r_**u**_s_**t**_ i_**n**_t_**o**_ t_**h**_e _**c**_h_**a**_o_**s**_ o_**f**_ w_**a**_r_… **T**_h_**e**_ r_**e**_s_**u**_l_**t**_ o_**f**_ r_**e**_a_**l**_i_**t**_i_**e**_s _**m**_e_**r**_g_**i**_n_**g**, _p_**e**_r_**h**_a_**p**_s_…?"

He felt her stripping him of his physical restraints to uncover the rest of his existence, laid bare for her perusal. He was whole and yet he was nothing, floating but tied down as he remembered his mortality. It was a mistake, one that he knew now.

It was too late. Screams were silenced and devoured by the sea.

"_Y_**o**_u _**a**_r_**e**_ c_**o**_r_**r**_e_**c**_t_, **l**_i_**t**_t_**l**_e s_**n**_a_**k**_e_. **Y**_o_**u**_ w_**i**_l_**l**_ n_**o**_t _**l**_e_**a**_v_**e**_ h_**e**_r_**e**_ u_**n**_s_**c**_a_**t**_h_**e**_d_." she confirmed with a murmur, seeing through him as he remained open and vulnerable to her makeshift eyes. Terrified, a voice mocked in an echo. His own.

A god, transcended from mortals and their mortality. He wished ̶ _he craved_ ̶ but illusions fell away and he remembered. Loathing bubbled within him, an unpleasant mix with the terror.

A cracked huff of amusement threw him away from his self-made pit of negativity, shoving chills into his existence. "**Y**_o_**u**_ t_**h**_o_**u**_g_**h**_t _**y**_o_**u**_r_**s**_e_**l**_f_** a**_ g_**o**_d_, **c**_r_**e**_a_**t**_e_**d**_ u_**p**_o_**n**_ a_**b**_s_**o**_r_**b**_e_**d**_ s_**o**_u_**l**_s _**a**_n_**d**_ w_**o**_r_**n**_ f_**l**_e_**s**_h_…" her dissonant voice echoed around him, now too close as if whispering by his ear. "_Y_**o**_u _**a**_r_**e**_ n_**o**_ s_**u**_c_**h**_ t_**h**_i_**n**_g_."

His struggles futile and hisses of warning unheard, he could only watch as an incomplete hand ̶ _stay away, __**stay away**_ ̶ reached out in plunged into his chest. Voices ̶ _all of them ̶ _screamed, silent and unheard but in chaotic harmony. The heat and the chill, overwhelming and destructive as time stretched and prolonged his agony.

She pulled away, when he was no longer whole and closer to nothing. Her empty chest filled with the half of himself, the shades of wine wrapped by dancing wraiths of blue and green. He cried out in anguish, once more inaudible and drowned. Fortresses shattered within him and she gazed upon the wreckage of his existence, witnessing her work of ruin.

Pulling at his senses, he met her inhuman gaze and was ̶ _mesmerised, for it was great and terrible in the strength of its hold_ ̶ devastated to feel the crushing despair. He fashioned himself to be a god. The notion felt… abnormal now. Foolish. The mistake of a mortal.

"**T**_h_**i**_s _**i**_s_** o**_u_**r**_ s_**t**_o_**r**_y_, **l**_i_**t**_t_**l**_e_** s**_n_**a**_k_**e**… _o_**f**_ t_**o**_x_**i**_c _**b**_o_**n**_d_**s**, _s_**h**_a_**t**_t_**e**_r_**e**_d _**m**_e_**m**_o_**r**_i_**e**_s _**a**_n_**d**_ c_**h**_a_**o**_s_." a glowing crack of smile flashed across a face of darkness, gone the next moment. He felt cold, entrapped in a mountain of dry ice. "_I_**t**_ w_**i**_l_**l**_ b_**e**… _f_**r**_u_**i**_t_**f**_u_**l**,_ I _**a**_m_** s**_u_**r**_e_."

Her hand ̶ _the wretched thing, the one of torment ̶ _stretched out towards him, a silent offer that ̶ _tore him apart, do it, no, do it, __**no ̶ **_forced his hand.

She held a hand out to him and he screamed yet another soundless scream as his insides tore themselves apart ̶ _take her hand, don't take her hand, __**takeittakeitno**_ ̶ but a hand was in hers. His.

Gods did not bleed. He was drowning in a pool of his own red, invisible and as intangible as the threads that bound him.

* * *

_"Since you are going to perish soon… I fear the possibility of my soul being devoured. Ludicrous, since I will become a god."_

* * *

oOo

* * *

_"Perhaps, one day… you'll find someone who makes you feel whole. Someone who will make your cold little heart swell just by looking at them."_

* * *

Chance or fate, he happened upon a body of porcelain skin and long hair of unruly white. Her cheeks marked by red and her eyes by black, a seal of a familiar spiral on her abdomen and the symbol of royalty within a fallen clan of red lining her left arm.

A masterpiece, he had discovered. A body unmarred by the swarms of time and decay. A body of eternity hidden within the depths of the underground, under the mountain of autumn leaves.

He was led to believe that she was young, her physical growth of an age between the child and the adolescent. The chakra that dwelt within was wrong, unnatural and unnerving. Strength and danger coursed through the deceased but preserved flesh of a body that defied law and logic.

The chakra was alive. The chakra was not alive. It should not have been possible. Chakra, the very essence of life itself. To breathe as the living do, one must have chakra.

She was alive. She was not alive. She was undead. An immortal. A masterpiece. An abomination and a presence of ruin.

Pupils were a nonexistence in her eyes of mint irises and black sclera, her gaze the visual instigator of the chill that danced along his spine in a chaotic rhythm ̶ _for she saw **everything** within him_. She sat up, with a distinct lack of care of her bare form as she cracked stiff bones and revelled in the act of breathing; though she did not need to. A twitch of a smile appeared on her lips as she stared at him leaning against the counter, stronger and weaker than ever before. With a conflict of emotions and states of mind, he was certain he did not want this.

His insides screeched for him to flee, but also for him to not. Her hand ̶ _now whole and small, with nails of black accentuated by the white of her skin_ ̶ stretched out towards him and his insides began to roar in panic. He struggled ̶_ though it was futile_ ̶ as her hold on him forced his body into motion like the pull of a puppeteer. He leaned over her, bracing himself against the counter that held her body on its surface.

He stared, desperate and unhinged, at her face as her fingers ghosted over pallid skin of unnatural youth. His bangs of black were neat yet they still hung in his face, the rest of his hair loosely tied behind his back. Screams echoed inside his mind, reminiscent of madness as he loathed their close proximity and the emotion of obsessive wholeness that overwhelmed him.

"You are a pitiful creature, little snake." she murmured, her monotonous voice raspy from disuse but no longer dissonant. Now, it was smooth like one of royalty. Inside, he was tearing himself apart ̶ _it was soothing, it was chilling,__** itwasitwasitwas**_ ̶ as the echoes mocked him for a pathetic existence.

His fingers tightened against the edges of the counter and he hissed, in fury and shame and…

Her thumbs brushed under his eyes, wiping away the unwanted liquid that fell from his eyes as a strangled sob tore past his throat. He was a legend, feared by even those whom he lived amongst. He was to be a god, meant to ascend from the world of the unworthy, taking its secrets with him. But best of all, he was a monster, as they wanted him to be.

"You are but a sad, scorned child." she whispered to him, as a mother would to comfort their upset child. His forehead touched hers and he realised how much he hated himself in that moment, that one moment where he sought and received the comfort of the one who ruined him and took half of his existence. Her fingers continued to dance across his cheeks, and the act soothed him. _He despised it_.

"I am anything but." he denied with a weak murmur, feeling the chill of her being begin to spread throughout his own. He realised that he was denying the truth with the sulk of a child. The whispers would not go away.

She huffed, her breath fanning his face. The counter he grasped crumbled under the pressure of his grip. "You cannot hide your secrets from me, for we are connected until I devour the rest of your soul and your consciousness fades into nothing."

He hissed, "You lie." but even he did not believe his words. His heart thumped against his ribcage and he knew he abhorred it. It was foreign and it was weak; a sensation only prey familiarised themselves with.

Her nails ran along his scalp and he wanted to recoil, but his body remained still as if it were frozen. "This body is mine. Though once, it was not." again, her lips twitched into a mimicry of a smile. There was no warmth in her smile, his insides freezing but also warming. _He was damned_. "You would not be the first of my victims, little snake. Neither would you be the last."

"Who are you?" he whispered in desperation, with his breathe making the unruly bangs that marred her face dance. "_What_ are you? Why did you choose me?"

Another imitation of a smile, sinister and inhuman upon the human lips of a corpse. "You may refer to me as Uzumaki Shiru, as it is my name joined with another's. I am a shattered soul, so damned that I happen to devour others. I chose you, because you happened to land in my sanctuary. What predator lets their prey run away, yes?" her voice was monotonous but soothing and light, belying the chill of her callous words that struck a discordant chord within him.

He was a legend, soon to be a god and a monster.

No longer was that the case.

* * *

_"There will be no such person. I am above the likes of your pitiful amalgamation of errant emotions."_

* * *

oOo

* * *

_"Someone will change you and become your world. Your reason for existing. To be apart from them, to have them neglect you will tear you apart."_

* * *

His thoughts would run rampant, his mind ̶ _his very essence_ ̶ would always return to her as if she were a black hole that pulled and devoured. She was maddening, a lethal drug ̶ _an unwilling addiction he never wanted_ ̶ that dragged him deeper into her realm of the broken and the damned.

She remained his secret, only known to the ones of the dead. He left her underground, unwilling and willing as he attempted to live a life that he did not belong within. Missions tore him from her, sending him farther and farther away from the one that held the rest of his being. Screams voiced the agony within him. Though it was agony he had to bear, for the false comrades that followed him were hounds that sought the weakness of the monster they wished to slay.

"We need to leave Konoha." he informed her, once it became too much to dance to the tune of leaves that sent him away from her habitat under the surface. She was small in his arms as his back rested against the wall, her own against his chest as she created seals of spirals with purposes known only to her. He had to touch her, hold her close if he wished to retain his sanity. His sense of being.

She, however, needed no such thing. Her existence was cool and aloof with and without him, informed of his despair yet callous regardless. He loathed her as he held her in his arms, disgusted with how he revelled the chill that left her body and entered his. He was whole again and it was wrong, no matter how right it was meant to be.

His gift of an uchigatana with a blade of black laid within her own arms as though an additional limb, pleasing him and not. For her, he had it crafted and made with the ability of chakra amplification. Why ̶ _why did he do it, __**whywhywhy?**_** ̶** even he himself did not understand, but since then it had been attached to her as a precious treasure.

"You would have turned out differently, little snake, if they had treated you as though you were a human being." she hummed as one traitorous hand travelled to her hair of white and felt the unnatural silkiness of its texture. She saw through him, transparent in a way that a shinobi should not be.

"I am above the likes of them." he hissed, tightening his hold. She did not complain, for it did not hurt her. "We will leave. We will create Otogakure together." for he was aching inside.

The seals of red spirals disappeared into one of her many scrolls and she leaned back against him. Relaxed. The creature of terror and fury wriggled in his intestines. The creature of delight and shame danced in his lungs. Screams echoed in his mind. _Over and over again_.

"You never had someone to hold you at night, nor someone for you to hold in return. Always alone, those fond of you blind to the true nature that you so desperately wish for them to see and accept." her knees went to her chest as her hands grasped his arm. He flinched, always afraid and always longing for her touch.

He held her close to him, tight enough that he should have crushed her if she were the average child. Her words rung true, though he denied and admitted ̶ _he was above others, he did not need anyone else_.

"Is there irony in the fact that the one who sees you, the one whom you so terribly desire to destroy and become; will be the one who makes your worst fear come true? Death is not the end, little snake, but you will not die…" an amused huff left her throat, soft and callous. His heart jumped, wishing to burst out of his chest in a gory end so that the suffering may end.

"You will cease to even exist as your consciousness fades into the darkness."

* * *

_"I am not so foolish as to let someone turn me into something so pathetic. You are delusional."_

* * *

oOo

* * *

_**"I see stories about protagonists that begin with their search for power, then end with their realisation that it's broken them."**_

* * *

A lifetime long past, long left behind and never missed. A lifetime of stories that others conjured and a lifetime of reality weighing down and crushing her spirit. She remembered stories of fantasy, where those like herself escaped into the lands of imagination. She remembered her own pointless desire of escaping her reality and she remembered leaving in a puddle of red.

There are memories of fire ̶_ how it burned in their eyes, their hair and their flesh as their kingdom fell upon them_ ̶ dancing upon lifeless entities once whole and alive, burning down to the very bone. There are memories of red and white, with fur and stern eyes and a barricaded heart of gold. Together with the red and green, with the silk and kind smiles gave away an open heart that bled freely. Survival, that was what they wanted for her. To survive ̶ _she had to become strong and great, to soak herself in the red of her enemies until her enemies were no more ̶_ and conquer, to assert the dominance and threat that she imposed.

Lifetimes and memories merged, but did not merge as the pieces did not fit into their places. Some were missing, some were simply misplaced. There was a need to organise, by ruining the other. A jewel of blinding red_ ̶ like the hair, like the eyes, __**like the blood**_ ̶ consumed by her, struggling in futility before its conscious faded and she became one of two merged together.

It was not her intention ̶ _no, no… she wished for death and its eternity_ ̶ nor was it for her pleasure, but it was done and that was that. The cracks of her essence grew, larger and larger until holes were left to be forever unfilled. With a black hole born, it dragged the unwilling to devour and erase the existence of others. Only one in the vast sea of nothingness.

Only her, then. The dark brought her into a loving embrace ̶_ time flowing and yet not, because what was time but a concept?_ ̶ and comforted her when no other could.

Memories played as looping movies, sometimes connected and sometimes not ̶ _but always over and over_. She was no longer as she used to be, though she was unsure as to what she had become. Death had taken her ̶ _after a_ _scream of betrayal, but one unearned as it was **her** who should have screamed_ ̶ but it put her somewhere else, deciding her unworthy to take to the side where the peaceful reside. Death could not take the other one ̶_ red and navy, red and white, the call of irrational revenge_ ̶ left in a stasis because outside forces wished for its stay. It was no longer as it was, but it did not matter. Not anymore.

Unhinged and with scorn misplaced, the plunge of a point and the warmth of red lead to the embrace of the nothingness. Selfish and faithful, the stop of the heart daunted none as the rest matched its lack of beat to solidify the path of a legend.

The sea she resided within brought forth much of the mind, thoughts themselves a favourite method of hers to pass time with by perusing through them. Her solitude did not matter, for nothing mattered anymore. Sometimes, she would forget that the sea no longer surrounded her anymore.

He would remind her, her little snake, but in truth it would always be connected to her. It would always be there, singing comforting lullabies.

His touch was warm, but barely so as the cold chill within her would engulf him and taint him. He despised the contrast of emotions that tore at him, the ones of positivity and the ones of negativity. His voice was a deep hiss, though not the harsh sibilance the memories pulled up from another time. Youthful and charming, though only to another who could not see past the shiny shell of charisma and power. The others wondered about her existence, when they created Otogakure. No longer so strongly however, for they too could feel the irregularity of her soul.

Her little snake often marvelled at her when she danced to a tune only she could hear, the blade gifted upon her marking the 'unworthy' and marring the ground with red. She did not know if she enjoyed the dance or not, for everything felt meaningless and without purpose. The 'unworthy' left, for the realm that she so desired, so she wondered if it was _her_ whom was unworthy. It did not matter. Not anymore.

The body she controlled ̶ _hers, but not hers_ ̶ was gifted with knowledge, left unwillingly for her to procure and utilise for her own purposes. Once, she was weak. Now, she was strong without the journey of earning it. The story usually did not begin with the strong, but with the weak. Her little snake desired the strength of her body so, but it was hers and no other would claim it as theirs.

"Do you have no ambition to conquer the world?" he murmured by her ear, once again holding her in his lap in an act of twisted intimacy. He did not shout, nor did she. Their interactions limited to soft murmurs and hisses. He could not raise his voice to her and she saw no reason to.

The walls that belonged only to them were marked by her seals of red, simple but elusive explanations given to her tortured pet as a weak assurance. His frustration entertained her to a small degree, though in truth, emotions were a distant concept now. They could have been laying on a pile of rotted flesh and she could not be sure that she would be phased. Instead, they laid upon a bed so large and grand it was unnecessary. He was one of peculiar tastes, but it is notably better than a bed of rotting flesh.

"There is no reason for me to. Not yet." she returned, her eyes heavy-lidded as he held her and she held her blade. It was precious to her, though she would not say so verbally. It was her first gift, made only for her and meant only for her. No matter whom it was from, it was a treasure. "No matter what I do, nothing will truly fill the emptiness that plagues me so. It does not matter anymore."

Distantly, she thought her words somewhat amusing in its dramatic nature. Like a movie, where she was a despondent teenager suffering from depression and needed someone to help fill her soul with life again.

He remained silent, staring at her through slitted eyes of golden that were both despaired and exhausted. The facades that he wore over his skin must have weighed on him, no matter how well he danced within them. He thought her a god, a being whom he wished he could be. He was a fool, for she too once wished for someone to see past her false skins and accepted what laid underneath. A god did not wish for such pointless things.

"Sleep well, little snake." was her last whisper for the night, as he attempted to meld her against him. She rested her forehead against his throat, and listened to him breathe.

That night, the nightmares left his mind alone. They would return on the next one.

It did not matter. Not anymore.

* * *

_**"What of those whom are already powerful? Already broken? Is it the end of the story, or the beginning?"**_

* * *

oOo

* * *

_"I figure you're the type to be possessive over your significant other. You'd lose your mind if a threat set foot anywhere near them."_

* * *

He thought her most beautiful when the white of her existence was drenched in red, as a surreal entity among the dreary grey of the walls and brown of the earth and trees. A dance done for him, involuntarily mesmerising. A solemn melody echoed in her mind ̶ _he assumed, because happiness does not suit her_ ̶ for her movements were of grace and sorrow. Murder befitted her image of ruined god, her essence ̶ _her wrong, abhorrent and wonderful chakra_ ̶ drenching the earth and the air, contaminating it and ensuring it will never be the same.

The echoing screams grew louder each day, for the longer he kept breathing the further he would fall into the webs of insanity. She was his unwanted salvation, just as she was his unwanted damnation. It was ironic and pitiful ̶ _pathetic little snake, __**pathetic**_** ̶** as he knew that he would allow none other than himself to interact with her.

She did not listen, regardless. Her whims were hers and he could not disobey her, so he would seethe from beside her as she exchanged words with the unworthy. She was a divine being of ruination; his Hell and his Heaven. She chose him ̶ _he loathed her_ ̶ and he should have been enough ̶ _he loathed himself_ ̶ but he was not._ Never, never_.

His blade bathed in the red, as a chaotic rhythm screeched inside of him. She would smile a pitying smile, and outstretch her wretched hand for him to take. He could never walk away, no matter how much one part of him roared at him to do so. She murmured mocking words of jealousy, soothing and cutting. Always soothing. Always cutting. His flaws, his secrets, were laid bare and belittled ̶ _but accepted, __**always accepted**_** ̶** without a hint of apprehension.

For them_ ̶ the both of them, __**together**__ ̶_ they felt a reprieve when the clear waters soaked up the red and brown that marred their skins of pallid and porcelain. To be bare meant nothing to them, for their bond went deeper than the societal standards of the living. Their bond went _far_ deeper.

She would float on the surface, eyes closed and existence lulled into an illusion of relaxation as she drifted. He would watch as her hair pooled around her ̶_ he remembered hair of black and white, with gravity defied_ ̶ and her ease would ease him. Then she would remember, and she would approach him to continue the abhorrent cycle of suffering and soaring.

"Did you know, little snake?" she hummed, fingering the loose strands of his hair as he crushed her against him. Forever unfazed. "The ice crystals of red appear before the rise of the sun."

"Always in riddles…" he hissed in return, staring at the growing cheeks marred by red. In a sedate pace, her body grew. He did not know why. "What of the Akatsuki?" he queried, tensing at the knowing twitch of her lips.

"They are approaching." was her calm answer. "Accept, but do not trust. I look forward to the maelstrom of your emotions." and then she smiled again.

He frowned, mild in comparison as his insides howled with panic and dread. His hand cupped her cheek, roughly as the chill of her skin seared his own. Her bangs were long and unruly, clinging to her face. He slicked them back, to reveal the hidden mark of red upon her forehead.

"I loathe you." he whispered, desperate, his nails digging into her flesh. Never, did he break the first layers and make the red surface above the skin. "I despise you. I abhor you." though it was unwanted, his voice cracked and she in turn brushed away the obsidian locks that obscured a sharp eye of gold. To see the despair in both his eyes, though it was unnecessary.

"Your eyes shimmer." she explained, her lips wider although it was only minute. She was improving. "You are beautiful." and he despised the clench of his heart, tendrils of the nothingness entrapping the organ that told him he was still alive with its consistent beating and threatening to destroy it.

His facial features contorted to physically portray his pain, to which her pupiless eyes of mint gleamed even if only for a moment. He loathed her ̶ _he loathed her so goddamned much_ ̶ but no one else could have her ̶ _no one could touch her, talk to her, or even be in the same **space** as her_ ̶ no one else could make her focus on them instead. Except that _yes_, some other wretched soul could attract her inhuman gaze. Some other wretched soul could tempt her to discard him. For the one in control was never him.

The puppeteer of wood and the puppeteer of dead flesh approached, on the day she decided to stroll across the surface of the earth, both of them wary of her additional presence. They eyed her and she in turn, eyed them. He however, glared as he pulled her closer. He knew the gleam of interest and wariness, and the niggle of terror that scurried to hide behind walls of strength. She was not human, drenched so deeply within the broken sea of black that it became her very scent. It would never be hidden entirely.

"That one is not human…" the one of plant flesh growled out after appearing from the shadows, a sentence that could easily be returned to the creature of black and white. "**That one is dangerous**." the same one added, voice harsher and deeper.

A smirk, sly and confident, slipped onto his face. He would slide into the façade, the face of danger and charisma ̶ _but he knew, __**he knew**__, and he despised the truth_ ̶ and fool the masses around him no matter how great the conflict that warred within him was. Her gaze was sometimes amiss, but always near. Always knowing. Always maddening.

"Oh, my… what brings the Akatsuki to us?" was his casual inquiry, though it was already answered by the scrolls hidden away in the dimensions of more scrolls. She hummed as he slid his arms around her neck, dominate in his display of whom she belonged to. He wished her dead, he wished her in pain, but he could never let her go. She was a drug, a toxin that grabbed hold of his existence and melded to him like a persistent leech.

Ringed eyes of purple met hers, disregarding him as the wooden puppet rasped out explanations. Closer, he pulled her,_ closer_. A smile carved itself onto his lips, insincere as the leaves of the trees rustled with the push of the wind. He was possessive and_ ̶ and insecure, obsessively attached to the one that would one day bestow eternal death upon him_ ̶ broken, drowning in his own intent of irrational murder.

She accepted on their behalf, the man of orange and purple realising the potential ̶ _their inseparability_ ̶ and who was he to attempt to deny her whims? Mocking hisses echoed and echoed, along with enraged roars and desperate sobs. He could never say yes, she knew, so she said it. He hated her.

"Perhaps I should travel side by side with them, little snake?" she suggested, teasing and cruel in her soothing monotone of cold chills. Being together long enough, he knew of the times when he had options.

He denied her suggestion, carrying her in his arms though it was unnecessary. She let him have his small reprieves, holding her uchigatana close as she murmured harsh words of truth.

Heaven and Hell combined, converging and mixing to create nothing but chaos as the two battled for dominance.

He held death in his arms and he wished to crush it against him. Whispers of a fool, to which he agreed.

* * *

_"I do not understand why you continue to theorise about my demeanour concerning a non-existent lover. It is irritating."_

* * *

oOo

* * *

_"I'd say that anyone who can put up with you normally let alone romantically would more than definitely be as messed up as you."_

* * *

The cloaks of red they wore were heavy and a nuisance, inefficient in their wishes for inconspicuous movements. Once more, he fell under the guise of a strong subordinate, his perspectives warped as a monster holding half his existence captive wore the corpse of an albino adolescent. Threats shrunk in comparison, for death by hands that reached for the illusion of peace was not the end.

Her whims and his curiosity led to their temporary employment, valuable knowledge left unknown within her mind as she wandered with him in tow. Interest gleamed in the eyes of the others, especially the adolescent puppeteer of red, whose artistic sense was drawn out by the monstrosity that was her. The man with the eyes of green and red an old acquaintance, knowledge ̶ _he needed it_ ̶ of one another acquired from a time long past. The puppeteer of dead flesh often summoned her, anxiety bubbling in his chest the longer they remained apart.

There were plans for the pleasant surprise of the second immortal, plans that he was not a part of. A man of swirling masks was to be found, she had murmured, adding the thought of obnoxious orange shades. There were plans ̶ _whims_ ̶ for the ice crystals of red, ignorant to the truth she claimed she held. He believed, for all the dread and horror and enchantment whirling within him believed.

Partners were formed, thoughts of placing her with another infuriating him. Her words of knowledge forced a wall broken and the futile attempt of her murder. Unsympathetic and serene, she called to him and he followed.

"All this time…" he gritted out through clenched teeth, kneeling before her as he held her wrists in his grip ̶ _as he attempted to destroy her wrists in his grip_. "All this time, you could have lessened my suffering with a simple seal."

Her hum of confirmation nearly tore out an anguished cry, thwarted by her hush of warning as her forehead touched his. He loathed to look into the lifeless eyes of mint and black, loathed but nevertheless compelled. _Pathetic_.

"I have interests to attend to without you, little snake, so I will allow you the reprieve of my absence with lessened agony." her voice was cold and monotonous, his intestines clenched in celebration and despair. Who? Who was it that drew her attention? "Partner with the puppet puppeteer. I will return."

His neck, decorated by the red of her seal, could not extinguish the appalling sense of longing and jealous hatred. Her presence, always connected but now barely seen, led to destinations unknown by the man of the swirling masks as her whims were laid out into loose plans in her fragmented mind.

He worked well with the puppet of the red sands, his partner's human vessel claimed by the devourer of souls in a misguided and naïve deal. The boy would never know, thinking it a failsafe should the current one perish. Foolish, but ambitious as they agreed on the path of eternity. Façades were drawn up as he masked his hatred, his jealousy and fury into a pleasant smile. The screams grew louder, the further she was away, tearing at his façades. He damned them.

The man of blue and mist joined the ice crystals of red, the living blade of scales fearful of the despicable chakra her form exuded. He too, was corrupted by her chakra, unknowingly, unrealised until then. Nevertheless, the man of the blue and mist was announced as her partner.

Façades cracked, hard and heavy as he barely returned to his quarters without leaving chaos in his wake. She followed, attuned to him in an abhorrent manner ̶ _he knew he felt the opposite as well_ ̶ and she soothed him with cold and calming words. Pressing her against him had been an action so unused of late, and he took advantage of the opportunity.

"You have been doing well, little snake." she commended him, petting his hair as he quelled the urge to bare his teeth and rip her throat out. Her all-knowing eyes gleamed, and a pitiful sound was extracted from his throat. "We will leave soon."

"You are keeping secrets from me." he accused ̶ _he knew, he knew, and__** he hated**_ ̶ inhaling the scent associated with red. "I want to know." it was a useless phrase for one such as her, a sentence stated by one who was weakened by their prolonged separation.

"So do I." she returned, always vague and cryptic unless to mock him for the flaws he had yet to accept. "Your world is both familiar and not, to me. I am intrigued, so I explore. You are not needed for me to do as such." it hurt him, she knew, speaking such words in such an order.

"Cruel." he spat, still in her arms as she was in his. "You torture me for your own entertainment." but it was a fact already known. Pitiful, they mock within his mind, stating the obviousness of his weakness.

"I believe you and I are both alike in more manners than one." was her murmured reply, fingers brushing against the seal of his neck and sending hellfire into his physical being.

A twist of his neck and his eyes turned upwards. A sinister twitch of a smile greeted him, illuminated by the light of the moon that shone through the glass of the window.

"It is just because I chose you as my victim that you cannot see the similarities."

* * *

_"If you truly believe you are more mentally stable than myself, then it is you who is 'messed up'."_

* * *

oOo

* * *

_"You know, the way you look at talented children is really creepy. I'm waiting for a particular condition to be written in your medical file."_

* * *

It irritated him, the scrutinising gazes thrust upon him whenever they were together. To them, she was a dangerous, peculiar adolescent. To them, he was youthful but still too old. Their eyes told him their thoughts and the stories that were written out within their minds. To them, their relationship was associated to sinful romance.

She laughed, startling him, harsh and hard ̶ _but wonderful, so wonderful, laugh more__** please**_ ̶ but also broken and unhinged. Her throat rasped and her cheeks stretched, unused to such strain. He engrained the image within his mind, opposing thoughts locked in a battle to destroy it or treasure it. Smiles were improved, but laughs were a rare treasure. The first of how many?

The mass murderer with the spinning eyes of red joined, eliciting his intrigue and his critical scrutiny. The boy was unnerved, by him and her and them together ̶ _as one, in various methods_ ̶ so words exchanged as her existence drew out interest. He wished for the eyes of red and lies ̶_ to rip them out, gouge them out, and make them his trophies_ ̶ for various reasons.

His mind echoed the melodious sounds of her pleased voice, to which he calmed as a voice cursed him and his flaws. Too many years tortured and blessed by her, he mellowed and accepted ̶_ though the others still resented, still loathed and hissed in despair_ ̶ but the search for an appropriate word regarding himself towards her, remained fruitless.

"Do you love her?" the child of strength and potential ̶_ and death, he could smell it, an unexpected talent gifted upon him_ ̶ murmured in question, undeterred by the threat he posed. They knew of the one in question.

His fingers twitched, his face unmarred by the scars of time but instead marred by bemused annoyance. "Why do you ask?" he returned, his voice even. She disappeared, summoned by the false ruler to be reassigned. The one standing before him now bestowed the title of partner to the wielder of a living, semi-sentient blade.

The boy's head tilted. Only a slight action. "You are intimate, though it is difficult to discern how so. Shiru-san is an enigma, as she dodges my inquiries and directs me to you."

Smile, whispers told him. So he did, and it was pleasant and mocking. "Do you think it prudent to question others' personal affairs?" he replied instead, annoyed as he realised her intentions. How torturous and irritating of her.

Still, the child did not retreat. Face clean and indecipherable. There was something wrong with the child of red and lies and death. "Is Shiru-san the age her appearance implies?" as her appearance was halfway between ten and twenty years of age. Too many years had passed. He was sure he appeared as young as someone barely past adolescences.

Back and forth, their sham of a conversation went. The smile upon his lips sharpened. "No. Does that make our 'intimate relationship' acceptable?" his head tilted. They were both souls older than the physical forms they wore, what did it matter? It seemed apparent that societal standards mattered, even amongst immoral serial killers.

An undeterred blink. "Do you love her?"

The smile slipped into a sneer. A shame. "I do not know what love is, but if you think that this torturous and toxic sensation that crushes my heart in thorned vines is considered love…" then the smile returned, once more mocking. "Then yes,_ I love her_."

A flicker of emotion, too quick to catch in the eyes of black and red. This particular child was dangerous. "That relates more to obsession. I understand your relationship with Shiru-san more now. Thank you." with a polite dip of the head, the young nuisance vanished.

His palm bled and he vowed. He did not like the polite child of the cursed and the dead. He resumed his projects, his mood foul ̶ _the child spoke true, **how** __**despicable**_ ̶ until she met him again in the night. The one of masks and stitches her partner once more. He detested it, but he accepted it all the same. She commended him from her position in his arms.

With a failed attempt at elimination, they fled back to their kingdom. Free, but not free. An all-knowing smile graced her lips. "I am proud of you, little snake."

He sent her a withering glare in return. "How I loathe you, _my love_."

And he had another laugh for eternity's memory.

* * *

_"Clearly, reading expressions is not your forte. Is it not known that potential is known most in the children of tomorrow?"_

* * *

oOo

* * *

_**"You complain about the antagonists often. What type of antagonists would you like to see, then?"**_

* * *

Knowledge was acquired, as it was vital and important no matter the insignificance of her lacking mortality. Time flowed at a rate so different from the sea of black, years passed and memories flashed. An alternate reality was now confirmed, yet still it was on the path of united war for a goal of fools.

She smiled, for the winds would take her to the locale of the leaves and fire. Timelines familiar to her were destined to change, for the sole reason that she wished for it to be. Timelines unfamiliar to her destined for intrigue. There was a hum.

"What do you want?" he queried, his hands weaving through her hair that refused to grow as her body did. Slow, gradual, but occurring. Alive and not, her body attempted to reach a compromise.

"To start a path of unknown destruction." she answered with a hum. He smiled, golden eyes alight with anticipation and approval. He was beautiful and different, familiar and not as the rest of her reality was. A beautiful creature that was such because of its particular set of cracks and missing pieces.

The path began with the children of carrot, navy and cardinal. Entertainment once more, only for her.

* * *

_**"Perhaps one where the antagonist does not switch sides after some inane talk therapy. An antagonist that does not care for fantastical peace."**_

* * *

oOo

* * *

**A/N: **This is the newest prologue chapter for 'Seal of the Maelstrom', which was previously known as 'Seal of the Uzumaki' and 'The Uzumaki Seal'. It's basically unrecognisable from its previous versions, but I have a direction that I didn't have before. I did overwrite two chapters of the previous version, because there were only two chapters and the plotline for that was scrapped. Uploaded this despite only one chapter because I felt guilty for all the people following something I'd never continue.

Some things to note:

\- AU is comprised of elements from all over the timeline, including the Boruto era. Orochimaru looks like the version of himself from the Boruto era, which I recommend looking up if you haven't seen it yet. Reasons? He's prettier.

\- This Orochimaru was never meant to be canon Orochimaru, hence the OOC. He was young when he met Shiru and the splitting of his soul does things to him. This is my interpretation. OOC, however, will extend to a lot of characters and not just him.

\- The prologue goes over years, decades even, since AU means less constraints from canon facts and timelines.

\- Shiru and Orochimaru aren't in a romantic relationship, if you didn't get the hints from the chapter. Their relationship is intimate, but twisted and without romance and the quotes between each segments are like mockeries of their reality.

\- This consciousness style of writing is experimental. Also, I'd to inform people that you will likely wait a long time before updates. I apologise, I'm a piece of shit.

\- I do reply to reviews if I don't forget, you can ask questions I haven't answered.

**Edit: **26/01/2017. Made minor changes to the prologue, also deleted the A/N that was the next chapter. Basically, it's 'thank you for reading, but I'm done with that and now I have this, so choose what you want to do'. Still have yet to get my inspiration back for this, sorry.

Reviews are love. Reviews are life. It's never ogre.


End file.
